


The Horror in the Vial

by pisti



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Addiction, Horror, Love Potion/Spell, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 21:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16167551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pisti/pseuds/pisti
Summary: Kougyoku's quest for a way to make the Idiot King fall in love with her leads to a vial rumored to make anyone fall in love.Judar's never been in love. It sounds fun.





	The Horror in the Vial

**Author's Note:**

> a big thank you to dailyjuhaku on tumblr for the juhaku horror prompt. :~) my goal with this was a personal and painful horror instead of halloween-esque imagery but i might write something else later too if i think of anything.
> 
> as usual, mind the tags & don’t say i didn’t warn you. enjoy!

“Your change, Sir,” the merchant says as he gently sets a few hundred fan and Kougyoku’s shiny new buy into Ka Koubun’s waiting hands. “Thank you for your patronage, and please do come again.”

Ka Koubun ignores him and hands the well-wrapped bottle to Kougyoku at her insistence. “Be careful, Princess. You mustn’t let it break. Who knows what could happen.”

“I know,” she says. She’s too excited to be careful, but takes it anyway. With a red hot blush on her face, she spins a little on her toe, her retainer’s warnings already forgotten.

She’s so stupid, buying a love potion like this. That’s all he’s thinking as he watches her. She’s so stupid. It’s just a scam. “Who’re you gonna use it on?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kougyoku asks with a flourish and a giggle. She’s been like this since she came back from Balbadd. It’s annoying. “He’ll be here for negotiations by the end of the month. Oh, I can’t wait!”

“Huh, wait, you mean the idiot king?”

“Lord Sinbad isn’t an idiot!”

Judar scrunches up his face in disgust. Her, with Sinbad? No way, no how. He’s not jealous or anything, but that is _not_ happening. “You know those are fake, right?” Judar asks, pointing to her new toy. “He’s not _really_ gonna fall in love with you, even if you give it to him. Even if he did, he’d just fall out of love the next day.”

She looks at him with shock, but very little disbelief. She’s so gullible. “You’re always like this!”

“‘Cause it’s funny watching you waste all your money. But actually, I’ve seen people try those before, right? And they never work.” He’s lying.

She glances at the package, then back to Judar with a scowl. She’s gullible.

Just a little more… “Also, the Idiot King only drinks alcohol. Good luck getting this in him. He said they have to look at you when they swallow it, right?”

“Fine! You take it then!” Kougyoku says and pushes it into his arms and stomps off, Ka Koubun trailing behind and calling her name.

She’s so stupid. It might be real, and she just gave it to him for free. More importantly, now she’s definitely not gonna have her way with Sinbad.

Score.

Now he’s the one that doesn’t know who to use it on, he realizes as he strolls along the palace halls, avoiding the places he knows Al-Thamen goons are waiting to ambush him for magic training. 

The first thing he finds of interest is Hakuryuu. Spear training as always, a thick layer of sweat’s covering his face. Judar smiles at the sight.

Hakuryuu’s his first choice of a king candidate, never mind that he isn’t Judar’s king at all. He will be.

Judar almost calls out to him for another round of trying to pressure him into conquering a dungeon when he remembers the weight in his hand.

The love potion.

A part of him wants to know what Hakuryuu’s like in love. He wants to see him fawning over someone and skipping his training to spend time together. He might even conquer a dungeon with him, if he were under the effects of a love potion. There’s just one problem with that: he’d never drink anything Judar told him to try. Not unless he knew what it was and saw where it came from.

Judar unwraps the vial as he watches. It probably isn’t even real. If it is, then that’s fine too, though. He’s never been in love. He can make fun of Kougyoku’s current state better if he knows the condition’s weak points and downfalls, and who better to fall in love with than Hakuryuu? If it has to be someone, he’s the perfect candidate. It’s the same science he uses for his kings.

He pops the quirk off and drinks it one swig.

When he looks back, Hakuryuu’s standing a little to the side, taking a quick break to drink water. He’s probably noticed that Judar’s there, because he very pointedly is staring in the exact opposite direction as he does so.

He doesn’t feel any different from normal. His sight’s getting vivid, but that’s the only change. Hakuryuu’s there, though. That’s good. He’s Judar’s favorite - that thought’s effortless. He’s determined, smart, and has the same rough edges Judar does. They’d make the perfect team, if only Hakuryuu could see that.

Then it hits him. It’s so sudden that he falls to his knees; he’s forgotten how to stand. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that Hakuryuu’s there.

Hakuryuu. Hakuryuu, Hakuryuu, Hakuryuu.

He’s struck by the shape of his arm. The way he holds his spear. The way he dresses, the way he tells his instructor that he’s ready. The tenseness of his form. He’s never been in a real fight, and his instructor sometimes goes easy on him. He knows that. He’s weak. He wants to be strong. Oh, what Judar would do to make him strong.

He thought he’d want to go over there and bother him, but for once he’s content watching. Hakuryuu’s in the middle of a growth spurt. His sleeves don’t reach as far as they did last week. Instead of marketing it as a love potion, they should sell it for focus. He can see every detail he’s ever missed, from the almost fluorescent hue of the world around him to 

“…Lord Priest!”

Judar doesn’t answer. He’s already staring, so Hakuryuu knows he has his attention. Judar would much rather look at the angle of his back than answer.

“Surely you have something more important to do!” Hakuryuu says. His mind focuses only on the tone of his voice, ignoring his words. So Hakuryuu has a voice that can make a sound like that.

Actually, out of everything Hakuryuu has ever said to him, that’s probably the thing he says the most. That’s the kind of relationship they have right now, in their state of limbo. But it’s deeper lately. The same Hakuryuu in a new octave. He doesn’t care about these things normally, but right now they’re more important than his own name.

Hakuryuu’s irritation is changing. His eyes dart from his waiting instructor to Judar, and he wets his lips for a split second. “Let’s continue,” he says, casting the fact that he knows Judar aside once more.

His instructor nods, and their movements are mesmerizing.

Every now and then his eyes flick away from Hakuryuu and towards the sky, the trees, the palace. Everything is red, red, red. Wait, the sky’s blue. Blue, blue, red. When he looks away his vision lags in negatives.

It’s weird. He’s enthralled. Even the clouds are shaped in ways that he could care about. Cranes, dragons, rukh, shapeless masses. They make the sky that watches, an important part of the world Hakuryuu existed in. His mouth is dry. Can he talk?

He can cough. The sound catches Hakuryuu’s attention and his instructor gets a hit in. He doesn’t have to childe him for his lack of focus. Hakuryuu scolds himself whether anyone else does it or not.

When Hakuryuu leaves for the day Judar lays down. The ground is hard and soft at the same time. He’s done this before, but it’s a new feeling. Just like the sky’s a new color. Peaches are a new flavor.

By the time it wears off, he’s used to the world feeling like something. It’s heavy. Not the potion, the absence of it. It’s not light anymore. He’s not good with words.

His life isn’t very interesting. That’s his first real thought when he wakes up from the vial’s influence. Since coming back from Balbadd’s Kougyoku’s been on cloud nine. He’s been under the weather. They haven’t connected. They never did in the first place. Not many people do.

Love, huh?

It’s strong. It dims everything else, like the way the bright sun makes him squint. Days later and it’s still all he can think about. He spends way too much time watching Hakuryuu, and way too little time doing anything else. He tries to recreate the otherworldly fascination and fails spectacularly.

It was weird and cool. That’s all. He’s back in front of the shady merchant Kougyoku pulled him by the hand to the other day.

“Do you have to see them every time?” Judar asks. He’s trying to be nonchalant, but he knows his question makes his intentions obvious. 

The merchant tries to be nonchalant back. “As long as the second dose is taken before the first dose wears off completely, it will elongate the effects of the first dose.”

“Cool,” Judar says. He buys a couple more vials.

They last, predictably, only a couple days. But they’re days laced with adoration. He’s alive in a way he wasn’t, mind sharpened by a feeling he can’t place. It makes him care. It makes him alive.

He spends those days light as air, filled with thoughts that make doing what Al-Thamen says easier. Because he doesn’t have to think about what he’s doing, because he can think of that strange feeling in his chest instead. The colors and sounds. The world is fun to live in.

He’s heard servants talk about the good ‘ol days, when all they knew was pure. That was never his experience as a kid. It’s his experience now - new and fun, all the sparks are there. His rukh rises and falls against the sunlight in ways it never did before. It’s alert and breathing in air with remarkable ease. Wait, he’s the one with the nose.

Where’s Hakuryuu, and what’s he doing? That’s the only thing he wants to think about. He’s content. Is this really love? It’s great. Forget making fun of Kougyoku. She figured out the secret to happiness one step ahead. He’s not telling her that, though.

He finds Hakuryuu. He’s not happy to see him, as usual. His spear wavers in his hand. If he listens real close he could catch the minute screech of it turning on stone. It’s Hakuryuu’s spear. 

“You’ve been strange since returning from Balbadd,” Hakuryuu says between sparring matches. He’s always been like this. When something bothers him, even if he wishes he didn’t care, he’ll give up and talk eventually. His spear catches the sun.

Right. Balbadd. The spear can wait. Hakuryuu’s mouth stays open a second after he’s done talking. He exhales. How hot is his breath? His breath can wait. It’s rare for him to start conversation, but even Hakuryuu has limits. Balbadd.

Focus. He clears his throat.

“You’re imagining it,” Judar says. His voice needs used. It’s forgetting how to make sound. He soldiers on. “I’ve always been like this?”

Hakuryuu frowns. He tries not to look everywhere at once and fails. Eyes flicking, rukh flicking, it’s bothering him into frustration. It’s cute. He’s Judar’s favorite for a reason. The reason isn’t that he’s cute. That’s just an added bonus. There’s a real reason.

Hakuryuu’s strong enough to try to kill her, even if no one’s on his side. He’s strong. Stronger than… 

“That’s not true,” Hakuryuu says and Judar reels to remember what he said to prompt this between Hakuryuu’s expression and his words. The words are out of Hakuryuu’s mouth before he thinks about it. Judar knows because he knows what Hakuryuu’s thinking-about-it-face looks like. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, committing it to memory alongside the rest of his expressions. Is that weird? He doesn’t think so. All magi need a scroll full of their king’s expressions. It’s absolutely _dire_. It’s close. Oh, he’s close. 

An expression close enough to reach out and touch. Is his skin hot from training or cold with sweat?

“Wh—,” Hakuryuu stutters as Judar’s fingertips make gentle contact. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” Judar breathes. His voice is coming out easier because they’re closer. That’s why.

Hakuryuu angles his head up when Judar speaks. He’s smelling the air for alcohol. He then remembers to pull away. He’s so much more interesting than whatever Al-thamen would’ve had Judar doing. That confused face is a new one. He doesn’t get it, and that’s funny enough to laugh at. But laughing at him just makes him self-conscious, so he storms off.

Hakuryuu’s great. He’s so great that Judar doesn’t notice the black rukh that’s been in the corner of his eye for the past hour until he’s gone.

It’s Ithnan, and he’s the same as always. Boring. Dull. Past his prime. Go away.

It continues to continue and continue. He doesn’t care. Irritation: an old friend.

Ithnan watches him with dead eyes. “You have a crush. That’s what’s distracting you?”

“H-huh! No way!”

Ithnan sighs loudly, so Judar knows he’s done with his antics.He makes fun of Judar for his dramatics every time he got the chance, but he’s made of the same theatrical cloth. “I thought you had it bad for him before, but now… this is a little too intense. You don’t need an _escort,_ do you?”

Is it bad that Judar’s familiar with the way he says escort? He’s eighteen, but he’s been treated like this his whole life. Ithnan’s made good on the promise before, too.

So he does what Al-thamen says. Hakuryuu leaves for Sindria, and he lets the potion wear off. His magic is caked with black rukh and surrounded by a thick white outline that leaves afterimages across the courtyard. His fingernails are separating from his fingers. The rukh is pulling them off. No one else is bothered by it.

Until Gyokuen calls on him, he really thinks it will never end. That it’s always been like this.

“So this is what has you so _distracted,_ ” Gyokuen says, holding a bubbling vial just above his head.

He’s not distracted. He’s looking right at her.

“You don’t care anymore?” Gyokuen asks. She shakes him by the hand in his hair.

He doesn’t feel like responding. She probably learned about it with clairvoyance magic. What a load of effort.

“I see,” she says. “If that’s the case, I ought to help you out. Open your mouth, Judar.”

She opens it for him without waiting for him to obey, and tilts the transparent fizzy drink down his throat. He swallows to avoid choking. The effect isn’t instantaneous, but it’s close.

He’s used to feeling this for Hakuryuu. The feeling he wants to feel is for Hakuryuu, but it’s being redrawn for the witch in front of him, holding his cheeks with one hand like he’s a dog. Why does he have to wait until she’s already done it to care? All he can focus on is his eyelashes. The remarkable clarity of the way they touch the grove of his skull as his eyes are filled with her, open as wide as they’d get. This is a feeling he knows. She’s the cause of all the misfortune in his life. If it weren’t for her… 

If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t know this kind of attraction. This want.

She gives his face one last squeeze. There’s a gap between her long nails and the tips of her finger. He wants it to leave a mark, but when he puts his finger to where her nail touched, it’s barely indented.

“Do you want more?” Gyokuen asks. Sickly sweet, syrupy like juice on a hot day. No, more. Like a thick wine, she’s sweet while harsh. Her robe is pleasing in both pattern and color. Shades of her. Shades of Gyokuen. He gulps without meaning to and nods his empty head.

Her lips connect with his. Instead of holding his face by the hand like she was doing earlier, she holds him still with a hand against his choker. Maybe she’s squeezing. He can’t feel anything past the cool metal.

He lets her kiss him. Lets her push him against the wall. The memories in his rukh are screaming. The color of her hair and skin melt together. This is weird. The stone wall pulls his hair. It’s so strong that he jerks away, but Gyokuen just laughs.

“Side effects?” She asks. It’s caring, in a way. Tender. Like her hands on his chest.

He didn’t know the world as a feeling until she showed him how to feel again. Her perfume will stain his hair and clothes. He lets it.

Her bedchambers. Her incense. The smell of her below it all. The feeling of his stomach dropping, hot need. It’s vivid. It’s someone else. They can do what they like with his body as long as he can feel like this in return.

That’s how he lets her hand him a new vial the next day, and the day after. She’s doing it personally, and he doesn’t even have to pay for it now. She thinks it’s funny. A new toy. He lets life happen to him. To the stranger in his body who’s collared by the witch, who licks at her spit like an expensive liquor.

She jokes and coos and calls him her addict. It’s frustrating because it’s true. All he needs to do is say no. He doesn’t think she’d force it. She thinks it’s funny because he’s doing it of his own free will.

When she doesn’t give him any, he doesn’t seek it out anymore. He just lets his world fade into gray. Into silence. Into itching behind his eyes and pins in his hands and feet.

The emperor dies. She’s busy and he goes in to the funeral in gray-scale. Mostly black and white. The outlines of everyone's arms are long, and their fingers reach their knees. It’s weird. A lot of things are weird now. This world is wrong—it’s a tired phrase the organization likes. Today it’s true. Most days it’s true. The world is falling apart, and no one cares. The funeral is for the emperor. No one cares.

His eyes catch sight of a familiar back. He’s grown again. What’s that feeling? It hasn’t come around for awhile, but he’s sure he knows it. Past the brightness - it only makes him squint. Past the sounds - they only make him want to cover his ears. Past the gray. The world from behind the curtain. Hakuryuu. Oh, Hakuryuu.

They were going to go to a dungeon together. They were going to kill the witch together. He hasn’t been killing her. She’s been killing him. The same as always. There’s no stranger, only a coward. Magi are powerful, but only as long as there’s someone there to use them.

Before he left for Sindria, Judar was always drinking that damned potion to his name. Gyokuen’s love was sticky. His was exhilarating. It was not real. But it was exciting, colorful, fun. The first time rushed back to him. He was happy just to look at Hakuryuu in his trance back then. Hakuryuu’s here now. It’s simple. He takes a dose for him instead of Gyokuen. It’s so easy and he wants it so bad that the need breaks through the gray. Into color. Into desire. Into love. He stops himself from taking it just before he removes the cork of a fresh vial.

The first time he took it. Not then. Before then, by a few moments. The fondness he felt then was real.

It was real.

He forces himself to act. The world isn’t in color, but Hakuryuu could make it so. All it’ll take is for him to fall. Judar chooses to believe that.

Hakuryuu has conditions. He wants to know that he can trust Judar. That’s hard. He wants to search Judar’s room. Harder.

He’s kept some vials around, but he hasn’t used them in awhile. Knowing that Hakuryuu’s going to find them anyway spurs his impulses into action. They’re going haywire. Crossing his sight and hearing. Smelling gray. Feeling sighs.

“What’s this?” Hakuryuu asks with a vial in hand. The distrust is evident.

“What do you think it is?”

“I’m asking the questions.”

“You drink it and things get fun for awhile. That’s pretty much it.” To prove it’s not dangerous, he takes one from where he’s got them stashed, unused, in a drawer. Lets the familiar sweetness slide down his throat. It hasn’t taken effect yet but his insides are jumping for joy. “Wanna try? There’s plenty…”

Hakuryuu sighs. “Give it to me.”

Judar pops the quirk off one with a practiced hand to give to Hakuryuu, but he just sighs. Hot air. The vague smell of someone’s mouth. Hakuryuu’s. He could breathe it in forever. It’s taking effect. He’ll be whole if Hakuryuu fills him. Every centimeter of his being urges Hakuryuu to tip the vial down and taste longing. With him and for him.

“I don’t want to drink it. I’m getting rid of it. Don’t get more. Understand?”

Judar frowns. Replaces the cork clumsily. He’s never had to do that before, and his hands are shaking. He doesn’t want to give it up, but if Hakuryuu says so he’d better do it.

So he does. Lets it wear off. Practices magic for him. One gray spell after another. The familiarity of sweat accumulating under his gold. Cloudy days and quiet soldiers. This is what he’s wanted his whole life. 

Hakuryuu touches him when he leans close. Fingers on his back, tongue on his lips. He doesn’t care. He looks like his mother with his rukh dyed black. It’s beautiful. It doesn’t _matter._ It’s not vivid. It doesn’t feel real.

From the beginning of time, this world’s been dull and uninteresting. Even the best of its inhabitants can’t fix what was always meant to be broke. It doesn’t matter. They don’t matter.

All that matters is the horror in the vial.

If Hakuryuu doesn’t want him to take it, he’ll have to take it without him. That’s easier said than done, considering it’s technically a love potion. When Kougyoku bought it, she listened carefully to every instruction the merchant could think of. So did Judar. He diligently followed his caution: always look at someone as it’s swallowed. Always do it, without fail.

He takes it alone on his bed. He stares at the ceiling. The same one he’s always stared at, alone in his room. He knows what it should look like. It doesn’t look like that anymore. It’s going to take him somewhere. To the moon and back. When it’s done, it’ll… it’ll…? 

He wakes with a start. Because of that, he thinks that he was asleep. But he’s not. This is reality, and the ceiling is still closing in.

He lets it take him. The man on the bed is a stranger, and Judar just doesn’t care what happens to him.


End file.
